Mundane
by StudyInViolet
Summary: Lima houses many superheroes.  Most famous is the League of Superheroes and its many headliners.  Less famous is the computer hacker Mirage and the people that work for him. Told as a series of vignettes.
1. Capturing a Lynx

[Case 03: Capturing a Lynx]

* * *

><p><em>"Behind you, 10 o' clock."<em>

Sam spun around bringing his elbow into the ribcage of his assailant, and grabbing him to toss into the next.

"How many are left?"

_"Too many to fight off." _ Through the ear piece he could hear Mirage typing away at computer keys, _"Get out there, we got what we came for."_

Sam looked the thugs in front of him, one swinging a crowbar like a villain from a cheesy b-flick, blocking off the easy exists from the warehouse. He sighed as he rubbed his the package he had tucked under his arm.

"It's not going to be that easy. I'm surrounded."

"_Just eight guys."_

Sam ducked as the crowbar was slung at his head, switching the packaged between hands, he kicked one guy against the wall as he scrambled around the wooden boxes.

"Easy for you to say. I could do a little help here!"

Some silence passed on the line. Sam used it to jump out the way, and throw the first thing he grab at the guy behind him. The hard thunk gave him a bit of security.

"_Do you still have the utility belt I gave you?"_

"Yes."

"_Third pouch, hit the small button, drop it, and cover your ears."_

Sam jiggled his hand into the pouch, pulled out a small marble size object. A knife was thrown at him, but he ducked around the pillar as he followed Mirage's terse instructions.

As he covers his ears he watched as the object bounce down to where the rest of the goons where, it blinking like a boom….

Enough though it as muffled, Sam could make out the piercing shriek that filled the air, loud enough that the boxes rippled around collapsing to the floor. Sam grabbed the package and ran to the roof.

"What was that?"

"It was once called the Cat Shriek," Mirage replied, the disembodied voice becoming slightly amused, "but I guess you call it your Mountain Lion Howl, Lynx."

Sam scowled into the darkness, "Very funny."

Minutes later he was on his motorcycle cruising along with a stature cradled close to him, with a busted a lip and the usual bruises on his face. Wondering why he was doing this again but he knew why, it all started with a text message a month ago that lead him to a library.

He hadn't been in the superhero business for long. Just had a homemade costume and was punching out bad guys that he knew were affiliated with the League's main enemies. But he did recognize the name of who sent him the text.

Mirage.

Everyone heard of Mirage even if not many people knew who he was.

The infamous computer hacker and informant who popped up five years ago had become a vital informant for the League. He was everywhere and nowhere it seemed he not only provided information to the League and the LPD, but periodically curtailed the top card carrying villains, such as General Hydra, Honey Badger, and Maestro from making advances through the great information highway.

So maybe it was curiosity that led Sam him to join this odd operation to go to the local Lima library and pick up a book.

Luckily for him the library was fairly empty that day, because he sure he looked like a fool trying to find a title of a book and not knowing where to start. After shuffling through the dusty stacks Sam descended on the librarian shifting through books behind the desk rolling between stacks in a wheelchair with small light up wheels.

"You're looking for that," the librarian had said, "it was put on hold this morning."

The book Sam had picked up from the library had a card that gave codes to open a lock box. Inside the lockbox was a key, and that key unlocked a room in a rather nice apartment, that other being furnished and a pretstocked fridge had a small box sitting on the counter containing an ear piece and a computer tablet.

Both items, Sam found as he turned them on, was a direct link to Mirage who periodically sent him all over the place on odd missions.

And from there the partnership was formed.

Sam wasn't super like the Capers he would see in the news, like Braveheart or Dasher. All he had was a super enhanced durability, which meant he could stand getting hit and be off his feet longer than most regular folk. And while Mirage had the knack of sending him in tough spots, the perks of the job more than made up for it. Only a month in he was making more than pizza delivery job and subbing ever did, not to mention his mysterious boss made arrangements to dropped off a portion of earnings anonymously for his siblings who were still in rotation in foster care.

He didn't who Mirage was, but the man helped Sam keep an eye of Stevie and Stacy as well, not just making sure his siblings were safe and sound, but keeping aware of music recitals, soccer games, and science fairs, even their grades. Making him feel even if he wasn't there he was close enough to love them even from afar. And that was enough for him, though he did want some downtime soon.

Stopping at the designated drop off, Sam slid the small statue into the mailbox, and zoomed off in the darkness going home to lick his wounds.

* * *

><p>"So I'm an errand girl?"<p>

"Driver would be more accurate." Artie looked up from the computer screens, "How did you get in?"

"You rotate the same passwords in a pattern. I always make sure to check on them since the last time you didn't answer you accidentally tripped up your own security."

"That was an accident. I was just trying something." He looked back at the screens where the scanners there just compiling information on the various targets he was tracking. "Again I ask why you're here? You could have just called."

"You left a box with a com-link and cryptic message. Wheels, I may not know you as well as Tina does, but I still remember your old gaming codename."

Artie scowled, "I thought it was a classic."

"Yeah, classic as it was sticking me on the guard duty again. It's not the four of us like it was before, you have a new team and a new guy running around doing legwork, why can't I do it?"

"Your enhanced hearing makes you perfect for lookout," Artie replied tapping a key that showed a picture from some of their biggest exploits, with a side by side comparison of her stats from five years ago.

Mercedes leaned over and tapped a key banishing the images. She leaned towards him menacingly. "I can also hit a direct shot on a bottle cap a rooftop away, a little skill that came in help before."

Artie met her gaze and slowly folded his hands together patiently, "The operation is more about stealth, not shooting people and blowing things up."

"Most of the time," she amended, "I don't want to be a getaway car."

"You forget lookout."

Mercedes gave him a foul look.

Artie turned away from the computer, wheeling his chair towards her.

"Sam almost got caught the other night. He refuses to wear a mask, and he doesn't have the skills to stay hidden. And if needed, you're back up. It's not like someone from the League will always be flying around."

Mercedes's expression cleared. "I get to fly a jet?"

"Helicopter for now," he added, "If you stay on that may change."

"Do I get to shoot things?"

"If you're lucky."

She seemed appeased and as Artie turned back to the console, she exclaimed suddenly.

"We should have a name!"

"No, we don't."

"That's why we need one."

"Trust me, we don't- hold on."

One of the screens pulsed and Artie dragged it over quickly scanning the complicated code before him.

Mercedes whistled slowly as she stared at it, "What in the world are you up to now Wheels?"

"Nothing much," he tapped a button calling up Sam, turning on the voice modulator. "I got a job for you," he said sending the essential information, "hope you rested up."

* * *

><p>Across town, Sam stood on the landing of his apartment building clutching a notice in one hand wondering if he could risk getting away with strangling his landlord.<p>

"I would ignore that," on the stairs was who appeared to be the mysterious occupant in room 306. Sam was never around the apartment long enough to meet any of his neighbors. It was how he insulted quite a few by accident, but this tenant was gone more often than he was it seemed. Sam had suspected from chatter he had overheard that his neighbor designed clothes for models and his attire screamed it right down to the way he was looking down on Sam's clothes.

He ignored it smiled. He was trying to be low key after all. And that doesn't happen when you form relationships with your neighbors.

"Bryan Ryan just targets everyone he suspects to be Capers thinking he can blackmail us. I think he's a Mundane but doesn't have the talent to register."

Sam's neighbor walked down the stair his knee high boots clicking on each stair as he descended. "Of course someone isn't running around with their underwear over their tights doesn't have mundane powers. You moved in last month didn't you?" he said, "Kurt Hummel."

Realized he had extended a hand, Sam hastily took it, surprised at not only how soft but firm his grip was. Sam. Sam Evans."

"It's always nice to meet neighbors," Kurt slung his bag over his shoulder and continued along, "you should use lemon juice, so you won't ruin your hair."

"I don't dye my hair."

Kurt just waved a hand as he descended the stairs.

_ "I hope you rested up. I need you to assist on a job."_

"With who?" Sam said still staring at the spot where Kurt had disappeared too before walking towards his apartment.

_"Let's just say you might see a familiar face."_

Sam paused, "How familiar?"

The line went dead.

"I hate when he does that," Sam muttered before his grabbed his keys and gym bag.

There were a number people that come to mind. Both pleasant and unpleasant. One that came to mind almost immediately was the poisonous Viperess who not only managed steal right under his nose but made fun of his lips. But then was Braveheart and Haymaker who were pretty chill despite nearly getting his bike wrecked.

Hopefully it was someone who he could get along with.


	2. The Art of Design

[Case 16: The Art of Design]

* * *

><p>"I'm not a wholesale department," Kurt said irritably to the screen. "Nor is my time available for you to siphon off."<p>

"_You're a personal superhero designer, you designed the League's outfits, you're in a league of your own!"_

"Flattery will get you nowhere," Kurt retorted, "and will you turn off the voice modulator? You're making my ears heart."

"_No."_

Kurt glared at the computer screen at the cartoon icon Artie was fond to use as his Avatar for his alter ego.

Second alter ego, Kurt corrected to himself, as he shifted through the designs he had sketched. For a Mundane, Artie was lucky enough to work as a Caper before his unfortunate accident. Much luckier than Kurt. A heightened sense of touch was blessing for daytime job as fashion designer and added boon for nighttime pleasures, but for a superhero work well it was bit of hindrance. He did well with his bow and arrows, but it was more of a novelty and surprise in the twenty-first century. If the Act hadn't forced him into retirement, he would have retired on his own, even if this wasn't exactly what he called a quiet retirement.

Kurt had designed and redesigned various costumes before the Act, and afterwards as he taken one look at superheroes who looked they got their costumes off the Halloween rack and into something proper. And before he knew it he was getting all sorts of offers to clothe other capers, fitting certain needs. Dasher needed something to resisted the high speeds he ran at, Frostbite wanted something that could withstand the subzero temperatures, Rhombus needed her costume to go stretch with her, and so forth. Kurt ended up having to collaborate with Artie who had the technology, even if he lacked the creativity, to pull off some of the designs. Looking back, Kurt regretted making that call since his friend somehow took it as clue to stay involved in the superhero costume business.

But as late, Kurt was just clothing supermodels, and there was nothing super about the models, who Tina colorfully described as bug eyes walking sticks. There was no challenge with the models, nor did Kurt feel the creative energy he got when trying to think of ways to costume capers. Yet he was still slightly peeved he was been sent someone out of the blue.

"What kind of power is durability?" Kurt muttered as he absently sketched.

"_A very useful one. It keeps him humble, unlike other people that I know."_

"If it wasn't for the Act I still be in the League," Kurt said, "they need someone with a good head on their shoulders."

"_You nearly got kicked out for the peacock feathers."_

Kurt arched an eyebrow at the screen, "Do I have to bedazzle your wheelchair again?"

Artie's laugh carried through the screen, lifting Kurt's mood for a brief moment. It was good to know at least this job was helping to do more than just get in everyone's business.

The doorbell rang and Kurt stopped smiling.

"_He's here. Be nice."_

In answer, Kurt shut off the computer screen, twirling it around to show an old picture of him and his friends before he went to greet his guest.

"Hello?"

The slightly familiar voice, followed by a slightly familiar face, that made Kurt's forced smile, edge of side of pain.

Of course it was the new guy that Artie had tapped for a job! Kurt decided right there was going to bedazzle that chair to oblivion and back the next time he want over. Durability he should have known, Artie had said his new recruit was a Mundane.

"Kurt?" Sam said surprised. "You work as -"

"A fashion designer," Kurt said crisply, "I designed costumes on the fly, I even got a few offer for villains I turned them down. I don't want to soil my reputation."

"I don't understand," Sam looked around at the clothes designs framed on the wall. "Why Mirage sent me here."

"Mirage," Kurt said empathizing Artie's codename as he tapped a panel, "is an idiot."

"I thought he was somewhat of a genius."

"He comes off like that, but he's rather obtuse, I have the vision he lacks."

A panel rolled out from the floor of his workshop revealing the fabrics and trappings.

"I meant, I don't need clothes, what I'm wearing is fine."

Kurt eyed Sam's attire, mentally conjuring a imagine of what he wore out and about as Lynx. "Braveheart used to dress like he got his costume off the rack, you dress like you got it from a garage sale."

"Thanks." Sam grumbled.

"You're in a secret operation, and you're not officially affiliated with anyone, but it wouldn't hurt your image to at least dress like it. After all do you need the Rouges laughing at you too?"

"I won't have to deal with them?"

"You're chances are fairly high," Kurt tossed him a common mark up, "try this on, its fairly standard."

Sam held it up to study. "It's bulletproof?"

"No, not bulletproof," Kurt said patiently as he turned around, "it's resistant proof to flame, lightening, pressure points acid, and shocks up to 100 mA. It's not insulated though. I can probably add more since you don't have restrictions."

"Restrictions?" Sam's voice was slightly muffled.

Kurt's voice remained bored and flat, "If you fly or hit speeds clocking 200 mph, it requires looking into the science of the fabric I don't want to call in an expert."

"Mirage?"

"He has no sense to design." Kurt said dismissively, "though I won't argue the practicality of it. And you need a mask."

"Braveheart doesn't wear a mask."

"That's because he mastered the art of playing dumb so no one can pick him out as a civilian. Though you aren't that high profile, pizza boy."

"How?"

"Mirage's an old friend of mind, it's not that hard to wrangle information out of him as needed. Besides why do you think I'm in your neighbor?"

"Coincidence?"

"Do you have it on?"

"Yes."

Kurt turned backed around and studied the costume, his eyes lingering a bit longer than they should have. "Are you a fan of any color scheme? Any adjustments?"

"Actually," Sam sheepishly went over to pick up his jacket off the table and pulled out a creased paper with designs of a costume.

It was rather quaint, cute, if he was pressed to say.

"You have an good eye," Kurt conceded, "but no capes."

"Capes are iconic. After all he wears-"

"You only see in comic books and publicity. Capes are good for flair, but if you can't wear them right, let only use them, why even bother."

"Blackbird and Jovial used them."

Kurt's lips twisted at the names. He had heard those names in while, and wondered just how much in the dark Sam was. "They did, they were Mundanes, I believe the idea was for extra protection."

"I could use that."

"They also were rather acrobatic too," Kurt took the design and became make his own changes on it, "so it was functional. You're a fighter, a brawler, you'll only be hampered."

"If you say so."

"I'm always right."

The rest of the afternoon passed fair enough with Kurt doing the designs for the costume. Usually after he had taken measurements he dismissed the client referring to work on his own, but didn't do it was Sam for some reason. He tried to make an excuse it was because he wanted to grill Sam about working with "Mirage" and so far it was working. Sam didn't hesitate at all to talk about their mutual friend.

"I haven't met him," Sam said as he sat on a stool tossing a red ball between hands, "I just keeping hearing a voice."

"They have medication for that," Kurt said as marked on the fabric. "You probably already met him anyway."

"Is it one of those things everyone is everything?"

"No, he gets a kick out of it. Go to the Lima Bean or something and take a look a nerds with computers, chances are he might be one of them."

Sam cocked his head.

"That was a joke."

"You weren't joking."

Kurt found himself smiling and felt even more irritated by it than he should.

"No," Kurt tossed him the costume, "try it on."


	3. My Big Fat Super Wedding

[Case 40: My Big Fat Super Wedding]

* * *

><p>"Can I just thank you again," Finn said to Mercedes at the reception as he juggled his foot nervously, "for making sure things got arranged?"<p>

"It was nothing, my boss doesn't even care that much."

"I was just worried about having to skip all of this."

This in question was a lavish wedding and reception in honor of his mother's marriage to Kurt's dad, in which a quarter of the attendants, friends of two new step-brothers, were working superheroes.

It probably wasn't the best idea to put Lima's defenders all in one place, but most were friends with the bride and groom and all couldn't bear to risk Rachel Berry getting wind of their civilian identities.

The star reporter had not only gotten wind of the wedding but the guest list as well, and if anyone failed to show up or left abruptly, but their alter ego showed up to save the day, she'll get started on a trail that they've been working hard for ages to hide.

"And it wasn't a problem," Mercedes replied, "Luckily Mirage had just the man for the job, and so far the city hasn't gone up in flames."

Puzzlement crossed Finn's face.

"Just one person?"

"You forget," Mercedes lightly tapped his arm, "Mirage has everything wired, if something worse happened that needed more manpower you'd know."

"I see," Finn nodded but looked uncertainly around.

Mercedes followed his gaze to where Rachel was making her rounds corning Quinn who looked almost ready to encase her in ice.

"A word of advice," she added "don't do this again, invite her."

"I-"

"Rachel Berry is the most dangerous person in Lima," Mercedes said sternly relaying a message from Artie she was more than pleased to pass on, "she has a higher threat level than over half the League of Doom. My boss would tag her if he didn't want t risk anything."

Mercedes smiled brightly as Finn pulled at his collar. "What do you think?"

"It's just that kept following me, we work together, and she's kinda hot -I'm going to see the rest of the guests," he mumbled and made a run for it.

For the poster boy of the League, Finn sure wasn't brave as much as his codename implied he was, Mercedes mused.

As she fiddled with her purse, her ears caught a familiar voice as she caught sight of Tina and her date.

"I didn't get a chance to say hi, earlier," Mercedes said give her old friend a hug, "I haven't seen you in ages, I love the dress."

Tina picked up the ends of the deep emerald green dress. "Kurt picked it out."

"I can tell. Are you going to introduce me?"Mercedes jutted her chin at Tina's date.

"I thought you knew him," Tina said as she introduced Mike.

"I know of him," Mercedes said suggestively, to which Tina shot her a dark look.

"Did you come by yourself?" Tina asked.

"No, I brought a date," Mercedes.

"Really, I don't think he'd appreciate your little flirtation."

"Finn? Trust me, he's more than cool with it," Mercedes said wave of her hand.

Tina looked closely at her, the good humor in her eyes fading as they narrowed.

"You brought him didn't you?" Tina asked coolly.

"He's one of my closest friends," Mercedes replied. "And-

"I'm glad to hear you say that," Artie interjected as he rolled up holding a pair of glasses in his hand. "Because you don't know the trouble I went through to get these."

As Mercedes took a glass, she noticed that Tina had stiffed up beside Mike, wrapping her arm tighter around the taller man's waist.

"Oh, Ms. Cohen-Chang, I didn't know you were invited."

Tina's face stretched into a painful smile, and Mercedes was glad when Mike spoke up:

"I think I met you before."

"You may have." Artie retorted, "though I don't remember you at all."

Tina coughed loudly, and Artie added smoothly holding out a hand to greet Mike properly, "My father is the Commissioner that recently he retired. Due to his reputation I have the clearance to go in out and out the office quite often, you might have seen at once point."

Mike looked at Artie skeptically. "How did you know I worked for the LPD?"

Artie grinned, "I happened to know everything that happens in Lima. Everyone and everything they do."

"He means," Tina interjected, wrapping both hands around Mike's arm, an action that caused Artie's eyes to narrows as much as it caused Mike to jump in surprise, "he's a busybody."

"I thought the commissioner's son was a librarian?"

Tina tugged Mike away, before shooting Mercedes a dark look as if she was blame to invited Artie to the wedding in the first place.

Mercedes wasn't sure if she was going to get an angry phone call or angry silence. Five years on and it still sucked to be friends with a broken up couple.

"That was deliciously awkward." Mercedes mentioned, she had to repeat herself when she realized that he wasn't listening as but rather watching Tina and Mike across the room.

"It wasn't," he responded throwing back his drink.

"It was, I know it's always odd when exes, but it's been five years."

At the moment Tina pulled Mike towards the center of the room where the dancing was occuring, somehow placing herself in the line of their sight.

"It's better than it has been." He took the glass from Mercedes's hand and threw that back with one gulp as well. "You want another drink?"

"I-"

"I'll get you another drink." Without a word, he wheeled backwards towards the bar. Mercedes pinched her nose as she had a sudden vision of having to keep a watch over Artie tonight to make sure the most powerful man in the city got himself so drunk he couldn't see straight.

"I'm looking for Kurt Hummel."

"Really, are you a friend of his?"

Mercedes's ears perked up as she recognized the name swiftly followed as she recognized the second voice in the conversation. Adjusting her ears so that she could ignore the extraneous voices, she pinpointed her target and quickly made her way across the room to avoid disaster.

"Rachel Berry, what a pleasant surprise." Mercedes placed herself between the reporter and Sam, "Came to support your fellow reporter and his family?"

"It's a fairy tale wedding," Rachel replied not losing a beat, she beamed and the blonde than at Mercedes. "A widower and a widow find love together later in life, brought together by their children. It's beautiful and a story many readers at the Daily Muckracker will enjoy. But not much as homegrown R&B Singer Mercedes Jones. I heard you were in retirement, or is it just a temporary hiatus?"

Mercedes smiled, fighting the urge to pull out the tiny palm size pistol in her purse and shooting the recorder Rachel carried. "I'm taking personal time to explore and find a more natural way to make music. Have a nice evening."

She pushed Sam forward away from Rachel as possible.

"What are you doing here," she said, "you're supposed to be on call."

"I figured it was over, and who are you?"

"A friend of a friend, whose advising for your safety do not talk to Rachel Berry." She shoved Sam towards Puck and Quinn who were in the midst of their fifth argument this evening.

As he talked with the group, Mercedes crossed paths with Santana.

"Hey-"

"Don't talk to me." Santana snapped, "and don't touch me either."

Mercedes recognized that tone which meant-

It was hard to listen for Brittany's titling laugh, but Mercedes was surprised to hear that it was followed by Artie's tipsy laughter.

Oh god, this evening was going to end badly, with the prospect of actual poison and not just alcohol.

Glancing at were Santana's hand was clenched around the glass, Mercedes made a mental note to make sure Artie didn't take a single drink that Santana touched.

"I don't know what she sees in him, sure big whoop, he's the police chief's son. He's a fucking librarian! I don't see how he even got an invitation."

"Probably how you did, a friend of a friend. And I thought you and Britts were on ice?"

Santana shoot Mercedes a look that couldn't be described as anything than poisonous. "Puck and Quinn are ice despite Puck being a hot head."

"You didn't answer the question."

"It's none of your damn business!"

"Any louder, and the star reporter will come snooping around."

"As if," Santana sipped her drink, "We aren't the Troubletones, we're just a failed nightclub singer, a waitress, and a dance teacher. Nothing super about us, especially you."

"Was that an insult, because that's mild for you, very bland actually."

"What can I say, I lost my grove."

"Well a little bird told me, that the hacker that took down the entire city last month, he's looking for people to help."

Santana lowered her glass. "Mirage?" she whispered.

"Only if you're interested. I heard the gig's pretty good. Pays well, get to travel, maybe dental in the future."

"Why aren't you interested?"

"Like you said, I'm not super enough for the job."

Santana looked speculative for a moment, a moment that was worthwhile distraction as Brittany and Artie discreetly left the reception.

"I'll think about," She said finally. "Now where did-?"

Santana sauntered off in her high heels and tight dress, ignoring the looks she gotten as she went after her disappeared blonde partner.

"Having fun?" Kurt asked.

"Not nearly enough," Mercedes smiled as she tucked her arms into his, "there was a guy looking for you."

"Really?" Kurt's eyebrows rose up, "Was he easy on the eyes?"

"Very, not your type though. He almost chatted up Rachel, I sent him over to Quinn and Puck."

Together they turned heads to where there three where Puck and the blonde stranger were in the middle of argument about video games while Quinn's drink was icing up.

"What's Sam doing here," Kurt whispered under his breath.

"I can ask the same thing," Mercedes said pointedly, "I didn't know he was invited at all"

Kurt looked away.

"I'll tell you later."

"Tell me now, since he's clearly the guy you dumped me for last week."

"No."

Kurt brushed Mercedes off, an action that told her more than any other dismissal he could have made.

Now the party was getting interesting.


	4. Where in the World?

[Case 42: Where in the World?]

* * *

><p>"Everyone gather around for a picture," Rachel exclaimed. The reporter held up the law Mayor Figgins had signed in order, that granted a reprieve for property damages and protection against lawsuits. "This will go down in history."<p>

In the shadows, Tina watched as the rest of the current rooster of the League gathered around the diminutive reporter. Rachel smiled as the wrapped an arm around Braveheart's neck. He had bent over to lessen the distance, and judging by the expression on his face, it wasn't much of a bother for him.

Tina was a one of the original founding members of the League, although in the passing years she had been booted to a more supporting role as other superheroes gained prominence. She didn't mind it as she was never comfortable being the spot light, but today, she was bored of her mind, and wanted to get out of here and do something.

It was easier to sneak off before. As a protégé as one of the Big Two. her superhuman reflexes and a childhood with her acrobatic family made it easy for her take down guys twice her size, though it left her even a larger ego as teenager. The mask gave her strength and arrogance that she didn't have as the stuttering orphan of the Flying Cohen-Changs. And in her troublesome teenage years she found freedom fighting bad guys in the streets. When Artie arrived to her master's home she instantly saw the commissioner's son as someone who had too much spare time on his hands, hardly a match for her.

They have a rivalry at sorts, and like all rivalries ended when a near death experience led to be reevaluate their relationship. However it would be long after they left their master to help form the League when their unlikely partnership blossomed into a brief romance. Even now five years and what felt like a lifetime afterwards that partnership was still there as well as the opportunity to be more than just a liaison for the League to protect his second alter ego. She had made a big fuss about it, but before everything else they were close friends, and in some ways she owed it to him.

Though, who knew it could be boring to be a superhero? She mused as she stood there listening to Rachel interview everyone. So completely and utterly boring?

Two weeks ago, she found a box on her apartment balcony. Her friends had received similar boxes, although hers had a flower resting on top. She tossed the flower out at once, but the box she had shoved into a drawer knowing good and well what was inside.

She may be bored out of her wits, but she wasn't that desperate.

Tina sighed as she waited for the microwave to finish wishing not for the first time she had a heat wave vision like Puck did.

As she waited she heard a click, and turned slightly as a knife flew in her direction. She deftly caught the other one that flew by seconds later.

"Good grief, Kurt it's me!"

She heard a swear and the lights turned on. Kurt, in his silver satin housecoat, stood at the doorway with familiar crossbow aimed her. He dropped the weapon against the wall he glared at her. "What are you doing in here?" he sputtered..

"Getting dinner." Tina pulled out the hot plate from the microwave. "Nice housecoat."

Kurt ignored her.

"You don't live here."

"I know, that's why I'm eating your leftovers."

"Tina." Kurt slumped against the wall, "it's too early for this."

She pulled back the sleeve of her costume to glanced at her watch, "It's not even one o'clock, the night is young."

"I have to go to the work in the morning."

"You're dressing supermodels," Tina replied, perching herself on the counter, twirling noodles around her fork.

"I'm sorry I'm not busy saving the world," Kurt remarked.

"You might just be," Tina muttered. "I stopped three muggings and someone attempting to commit arson on his own shop so she could make some insurance money."

"I take it," Kurt said as he crossed the room to clean up the mess she dripped on the floor, "you're displeased?"

"I'm bored." Tina muttered. "Nothing's exciting anymore."

"Not even-"

"Don't." She said waving her fork at him, "I don't kiss and tell."

"I wasn't talking about Dasher," Kurt said, "I heard from Sam who from Mercedes who heard from the man himself, that you turned down his offer."

"Of course I did," Tina grunted.

Kurt merely looked at his nails, "Didn't you say you were bored? Artie," Kurt dragged the name out, "sent Sam to Russia of all places to stop an assassination of some Cold War official that was still alive. Mercedes even got to shoot someone."

"Good for her."

"I got call from them tonight, apparently Artie sent them to Italy, they kept talking about the best pasta sauce they had, not enough to make me interested, but I've been to Naples before it beautiful there."

"So they travel. And the new guy hasn't bungled anything. "

"Sam's pretty good, he acts more or less autonomous these days. In some ways it feels like the old days."

Tina dropped the bowl into the sink. "How? Neither of us are on the team."

Kurt lifted an eyebrow. "You haven't heard, what happened in Prague?"

Tina didn't want to know about what happened in Prague, because knowing Kurt it would elaborate and dramatic tale that only served to drag out the details in whatever role Artie had him playing in the operation. And while she was curious, she felt left out in the cold.

Pulled mask back down on her face and opened the kitchen window.

"Leaving so soon?" Kurt asked. "Thanks for coming by, I always enjoy your company."

"Goodnight." Tina replied as she jumped out into the night.

* * *

><p>"Are you alright?"<p>

Tina looked away from the stove to where Mike stood in the doorway, uncomfortable wearing civilian dress. When they first got aquatinted he had said he was either always in costume or half naked. She thought it was joke playing off the reputation he had in some circles, over the past few months she realized it wasn't.

She pretended it didn't bother her as much as it did.

They're in her apartment today, and he still fully dressed since she decided to change up their routine by having a bite to eat before they move to the bedroom. You know as sometimes something a bit mundane was nice.

"I'm fine," Tina called as tested the noodles, "Did you want to catch a movie after dinner?"

When Mike didn't answer, she poked out to see him staring at the wall of pictures. When they usually stayed here, the light was hardly on in the room, nor did he stay long enough to look at them, but they caught his interests this time. They were old pictures mostly. Pictures of her parents before died in the circus accident, pictures of her friends, both in costume and not, nothing too terribly recent, other than a few League pictures. She hadn't had the time really to put up one with her and Mike to replace a few of them on the wall.

"You know the commissioner's son," Mike said staring at the pictures.

"Yeah, I saved his life a couple of times," Tina said with a shrug, "it's no big deal."

"When we met at the wedding I don't think he liked me that much."

"Well you know about what they say about librarians," Tina said coming to grab him by the arm, "come on give me a hand."

Mike pulled his arm away from her.

"I wondered why he was there, Puck, Finn, and Quinn seemed to know him too, and Santana was giving him the evil eye she gives only to General Hydra."

"He did try to chat up Brittany. I think something's burning."

"But I don't understand is why you have pictures of him."

"What are you talking about?" Tina lied, "I hardly know him."

Mike instead pointed to a picture that was well out of her reach, but eye level to his. It was a rather old picture and because of it one she often avoided looking at knowing if she did she'd want to take it down. It wasn't even one from when they were dating, it an article from when they stopped a jewel heist, a relic from a time long gone.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Mike said, "He was your partner back when you were Blackbird."

"I thought it was an obvious connection, within days of the Commissioner's son having awful car accident that left him paralyzed, Jovial suddenly goes into retirement."

"That explains how people know him, except for you-"

"Something's burning," Tina said abruptly, turning back to the kitchen. Only to find Mike had zipped in front of her blocking the door. She moved to right, he and blocked her.

"I don't want the stove to catch on fire."

"If it starts to smoke I'll put it out in a flash," Mike replied as met her eyes, " I shouldn't have taken you that long to admit who your partner was."

"It's my past, and I don't like brining up things I closed the book on."

Tina ducked under his arm into the kitchen. "I heard you brought the circus your parents died in," Mike called after her.

Something did end up burning, and the more than just the past got ruined.

She and Mike had a simple relationship. It made her happy, it made him happy, and best of all it was one of the best relationships she had after a string of very bad ones. But it was never anything she could see lasting forever.

Before the night was over she had gone through the cabinets in her place not just to find the alcohol she had scurried away but to pull out the box she couldn't bring herself to throw out.

"I'm in," Tina said into the microphone as she stared at the picture in her hand. "What exactly are you up to?"

* * *

><p>Sam ducked as the glass windows broke above him. Luckily his new costume took most of the impact, but at the sound of gun fire he knew his time was up. He found a few weeks ago it wasn't as resistance proof as Kurt had claimed.<p>

"A little help."

"_I can't work miracles."_

"How about trying." Sam shoved a table in front of one the cherrio bots. "Trying is good. Get Miss M in here, I could use the firepower."

"_She's manning the jet to make sure you have escape route, plus she can't get in without you getting crossed in the fire."_

"Well do something, call Braveheart in or -"

Sam ducked grabbing the broken end of table and clubbing a robot.

As he turned he caught a sight of the semi circle robots around him.

"Or at least hot wire the robots."

"_Not that easy."_

"You do know I hate you sometimes."

Instead of answer there was a small explosion, swiftly followed by a shadow that jumped overhead landing right next to Sam. He saw the black and blue blur swirl around knocking out the bots, and their weapons, jumping out of the way as the guns aimed at her.

"Eight o'clock," She yelled over her shoulder.

Sam followed in suit, dashing out the metallic brains.

"M is some distance away, waiting for us," she said yanking out a rod from one of the robots, "and _Mirage-_why couldn't you take them out?"

"_For the last time, they're on a different system."_

"No wonder you needed my help."

There was odd sound coming through the earpiece as if someone had hit a keyboard rather hard.

"You're Nightshade?" Sam asked.

"Yes," she smiled, the domino mask only enhancing her mirth she gave him a mock salute, "your miracle worker."

She turned and left the room kicking out a robot as she left.

"Oh," Sam said to himself thinking of a conversation he had with Kurt once, "that's her. The girl who dumped you."

"_She didn't dump me, it was mutual-"_

"_Mutual my ass, you got dumped," _Miss M interjected into the line. "_And you moped around for ages_."

"_I didn't ask for your opinion."_

"Guys," Sam said noticing a blinking light.

"_You really are dumb some times." _

"Guys," Sam said louder, but Miss M and Mirage kept bickering over the line as usual. "There's a bomb!"


	5. Flight

[Case 88: Flight]

* * *

><p>"So are you going to kill him?"<p>

Mercedes leaned on the wall absently spinning around one of her trusty revolvers, her eyes locked on the computers before her.

"Sam's been here since I started the operation," Artie replied as he continued to watch the news feed, "It wasn't like he went rouge on his own."

"Don't blame me. I stayed with the 'copter, since you told me it required more stealth than firepower."

"And stealth didn't work did it? You could have avoided all this is you just waited."

Artie scowled at the screen, where Kurt was fitting a costume around a mannequin using the call in that was only supposed to be for emergencies and not social calls.

"I didn't buzz you in," Artie said, "Did you finally finished –"

"No not yet."

"I can't chat, I have to go meet someone in a few minutes."

"I know," Kurt took the measuring tape around his neck wrapping it around the mannequin. "That's why I called."

"You told him." Artie said to Mercedes.

"She told me and I mentioned it to him." Mercedes smirked. "About time you talked one on one. It's been going on three months since she joined our merry crew."

Artie abruptly rolled backwards as he snatched up his phone. "Don't even think of eavesdropping."

"I wouldn't dare," Mercedes glancing at the computer panel. "I'll probably launch something at the moon by accident."

"Naw, all those are password protected."

Mercedes pulled up a chair and as he leaves Artie hears Kurt's voice and knows the two had already started their gossiping.

He actually doesn't blame them in this case, he and Tina had a complicated relationship. From squabbling sidekicks to a crime fighting duo and everything between, the amount of strain in their relationship varied. Sometimes when they were working together it was very cordial and overly polite, and other times the wrong thing slipped out his mouth and she brings out the blades of equality on him. Yet despite that memory when Tina called asking to meet a local spot (for business only she had said more that once) he didn't hesitate in saying yes, because no matter their bad times he couldn't forget the good ones.

"You're late," Tina remarked as she sat at the table, twirling around a soda that had long gone flat. She flashed a quick grin as Artie rolled up to the table, to soften her words, "well things have certainly changed, since you're usually on time."

It seemed like she hadn't changed at all, he thought as he quickly glanced at her. She still wore the cheap layered necklaces, and while the streaks weren't as bold as they were before, the unnaturally blonde strands weaved through her hair though he the memory of them being blue or purple was vibrant in his mind.

"I got delayed," he offered in a way of apology, as he picked up a menu, "why here, we once found a claw in the lobster pasta."

"Neutral zone," Tina replied as she pulled a file out of her purse, and slid it before him. "This is strictly professional."

Artie spied the League Logo on the front knowing at once what this meeting was about. He had already hacked into the League's system that morning over coffee, and knew that inside was a reprimand not only about going outside the bounds of his operation, but a dressing down for Sam to cause the incident in the first place. Though the logic of this formality was Honey Badger levels of insane, he wasn't that surprised the League got upset that a mundane did a job now of their high profiled member could do, finally punching out General Hydra and dismantling her Cherrio bots.

He knew without looking up Tina was watching him closely, after all he knew that she knew that he knew what was going on with this, he was vastly disappointed. He should have known though the restaurant was more than just neutral territory with loud ambiance that meant you talk with little chance of being overheard as much as it was the one place they had not gone for a romantic outing before since the food was that bad..

"Let's not spoil my appetite," Artie said as he picked up the menu instead, "it's no Breadstix, but I wonder if they added anything new…"

"I didn't call you out here to eat," Tina remarked.

"I'm not in the mood for pasta, I wonder if they sell burgers?"

"Artie, we can't just talk about the latest attack or whatever flavor of the month that's in the streets."

"Why not? I saw in the news that the League is -"

"Because we're talking about people we know."

"It's no different than celebrities. Do we really know them after all?"

"You, -You're changing the subject!"

"That's what I do best," Artie said, "I wonder what the day's specials are?"

Tina rolled her eyes and sat back in slight defeat, in a familiar manner. As Artie pretended to study the menu, she coughed loudly, even going far to tap her spoon against her glass. She might not have an eidetic memory like he did, but she sure remembered that was one of his pet peeves. After a few minutes he stopped pretending otherwise, and tossed aside the menu to pick up the folder.

"I'm losing my fringe benefits," Artie remarked as he flipped through it. "All because of one little mistake?"

Tina jerked her head at the news feed that was playing on a television at the bar,

"You're running a secret operation. As in no one is supposed to know about it. Since there's that whole thing about Mundanes can't be Capers since it promotes bad ideas and your main operative doesn't wear a mask."

"I tried to convince him otherwise," Artie said closing the file. "I suppose the League doesn't like my hacking into their systems regularly. And to think how many times I saved the lot of them."

"You almost sent Rachel Berry right to their gates once."

"That was an accident, once."

Tina's lips twitched into a reluctant smile. "You were getting rid of her since everyone in Lima knows that's she been tracking Braveheart for ages since he rescued her. "

"How did you know the Lima's favorite reporter was tailing me?"

"Kurt mentioned that your codes went through five cycles of changes."

"Six," he corrected, and shivered a bit, "she's probably the most dangerous adversary to have."

"Not even Viperess?" Tina teased.

"She's going to hold that grudge to death won't she?" Artie grumbled, "We were drunk!" Artie exclaimed.

Tina lifted an eyebrow, "Fine, I was drunk, but Brittany was the one who approached me first, both times. Anyway isn't it bridge under water, they're girlfriends aren't they?"

"You know how _poisonous_ she is," Tina quipped.

"She hasn't been bothering you a great deal other that has she?" He asked. "She switched sides so many times I just decided she's a loose cannon."

"Apparently working for one of the Big Two has it perks, despite being a Mundane." She paused. "I still think it's a flawed measurement."

"Superhuman reflexes, but average level of everything else," Artie murmured.

"If you can't shoot fire out your palms, read minds, or fly, you're worthless." Tina said with a shake of her head.

"Flying, I miss flying." Artie mused slightly resting his chin on his folded hands.

"You can't- oh you mean-"

Artie nodded and mimed the familiar gesture of casting of the line launcher. "For those few moments before the line grew taunt, it was the closest I felt to flying. I mean I can remember it perfectly-"

"But it's not the same." Tina finished.

"Yeah," he jested, "but as you recall I have the worse power of them all," he absently placed a hand on his wheelchair, "Perfect memory."

Tina looked down at her glass, then suddenly sat up, "I have a crazy idea. You know I bought back my parents' circus?"

"I read about it- you are insane," Artie interjected, "I'm not going go on a trapeze!"

"It's the closest you can probably get to flying without inventing something." Tina protested.

"There's also a higher a chance of me falling."

"Please." She said.

In that simple word he felt his resistance crumbling. That very same "please" was what got him out here in the restaurant, the very same please that had him considering this fool thing, since a part of him, much larger than he wanted to admit, wanted to humor her.

"Why not," Artie said, "it's not like we're going to eat."

They left the restaurant heading out to the parking lot, where Tina sheepishly looked around, "let's take my car I need to get it before the meter goes out."

He shrugged and followed her along the side streets.

"So I see some things haven't changed, I thought you went the other way?" He said nudging his head at the rooftop.

"It's my night off," she replied, "and I wanted to be on time."

"I wasn't late then," he said, "you came early on purpose!"

Tina looked away abruptly. "I did not-"

"Hand over your money and no one gets hurt."

As one they turned to see a young man with sock over his head and carrying a crowbar. Behind him there was a small ragtag gang of others slowly moved out the shadows waiting to ambush them.

"We should have taken my car," Artie remarked dryly as Tina moved behind him, "do we have time for this?"

"More than enough," Tina shoved his chair forward, spinning around to kick the nearest guy in the stomach.

As Artie rushed forward he yanked the sparing sticks from their hiding place in his armrest, disarming the first guy and dismissing the next with a series of practiced strikes.

A shadow flew over his head and Artie watched with a bit of awe as Tina expertly tossed a thug into a pair.

"That's only counts as one," he called, to which she stuck out her tongue before she executed a sharp elbow thrust into the windpipe of the guy coming up from behind her.

"You're welcome," she said cheekily.

He rolled his eyes and turned to find any leftovers, only to find the last of the group fleeing.

"They really did pick the wrong two people to jump," she muttered. "And I think I ruined my new shoes."

"We can go after the last one if you want if it makes you feel better," Artie proposed.

"No thank you," she pulled out her phone, calling Bieste's number quickly giving their location. "We're just lucky," she said putting the phone away, "none of them had a gun."

"Yes we are."

The expression on his face darken, and Tina felt like kicking herself, "I didn't mean to-"

"It's fine Tina." He said softly, "I know what you meant."

As they stood in the street, with the unconscious bodies around him, Tina suddenly felt transported back to the first time they had crossed past after his accident.

They had broken up nearly a month before it happened, some minor compliant that was symptom of the fact their readiness for a relationship was going at different speeds, that they were too young, and were living too much on the edge to make things work. In way she liked to blame the accident, as horrible as it sounds, for what happened to between them. A handy excuse to explain why after such an event they didn't try again. But it was just excuse that they were both using. Her to forget the past, and him to use it to avoid the future.

She asked him out tonight not just to hand over the packet, but because she got a sense that things had changed.

She had changed, he had changed.

In the weeks she had be running on missions with Sam and Mercedes and occasionally Kurt, she had thought the operation was what Kurt had joked it to be, a superhero rehab for those that were screwed up. A constant stream of guests filled their ranks that matched that description after all. Puck who burned so many bridges with Quinn and the baby, that cleaned up his image as a reputable superhero. Quinn who channeled her energies away from the destructive path she was headed. Santana who found something more than love to keep her from straying to the League of Doom by acting as double agent. Rory who almost became the new head of the Irish Mafia in Lima. Matt who had fallen to obscurity given his invisibility powers had found a some activity, and the list grew on. But the most remarkable change was not in the followers but in the head in the operation himself.

For the past five years Artie had worked at the library, occasionally in collaboration with Kurt on some device, he just kept researching on therapy on experimental studies that could help him walk again. But this year she had little heard directly or indirectly about it, Mercedes even said he was swimming instead of doing whatever dangerous thing with parts from a jungle gym. She would listen in on the conversation over the com link hearing the quick and rapid retorts between Artie and the all the rest, the voice modulation barely hiding the humor and wit that had always loved about him even when they were the farthest from friends. This organization had given him a purpose as much as it given her excitement in her life.

"My car's this way," Tina said as she stepped over a body kicking the guy in ribs as she passed.

Instead of the circus they ended up back in Artie's home base, with him giving the tour she kept putting off for ages.

"Virtual reality room?" she asked peering around the empty space.

Artie hit a button and a dinosaur charged at her, only to freeze as it touched her. "It's a work in process. I shut Sam and Puck in here once, and they came after me."

"I see why." Tina replied though she was impressed nevertheless. "How do you control it?"

Artie pointed at the panel on the wall. "There's of pre programmed designs inside, I working on a customization feature to expand-"

The surroundings shifted to familiar confines of the Big Top that Tina now owned, with lights shining on a trapeze.

"I thought you said it a crazy idea," Tina murmured.

Artie didn't say anything as she walked along the simulation.

"It's so real," she breathed, "I can almost smell the stale popcorn, it just like how I remembered."

"Remembered, you haven't been out there before?"

"I bought it not long ago, and I didn't feel like going alone."

I thought you've gone- I thought you would go out here all the time with – "

"We broke up." Even as a whisper her voice echoed in the simulated tent, as she looked back over to him, her expression steady, "months ago."

"Oh." He felt some sense of relief, quickly followed by guilt pass over him. "You didn't mention that."

She went back to the panel and changed the environment flipping through generic and familiar backgrounds, "You didn't ask."

"No I didn't."

A silence filled the room as she exhausted the landscapes and returned the room to the default confines of the room.

"You think that's special," he said clearing his throat, "I saved the best for last."

The control room filled with sleeping monitors was empty. Mercedes had vanished leaving a note about an emergency call to pick up one of the earth bound helpers, though it's more likely she got bored and went home.

Crumbling the paper aside Artie turn the machines back on, and had the pleasure of watching Tina's eyes widen underneath the soft glow of the monitors.

"No wonder it seems like you're everywhere," she said as she pointed to each screen, "local feed, surveillance, international channels, economic reports?"

"The world at my finger tips. Though it's a pain to update everything."

"Have you ever been hacked?" Tina asked as she perched herself on the table, idly pushing aside papers.

"No, but don't jinxed me."

She smiled. The light from the computer screen fell around like a nimbus as she removed her heels, each shoe falling to a loud clunk onto the floor.

"I won't then." She turned around to look again, smirking at the Jovial figurine Kurt had got him as a gag joke. She picked it tossing it over when she saw the picture frame shoved in the back out of reach.

Artie felt his breath catch as she picked up and turned it staring at the picture he she must have burned years ago. He wasn't sure why he didn't.

"Are you embarrassed?"

"Not quite."

She slid off the table, leaning in front of him, "Don't be. I still have the picture too. Right where you left it."

"I never asked."

"No, you didn't."

He leaned forward only to stop, his forehead nearly brushing hers, her hands on top on his.

"Was this all for work as well," Artie asked. "Or something else?"

"Possibly," Tina glanced into his eyes, and he saw a look he hadn't seen in a very long time. "Want to give it another try?"

In answer, Artie leaned forward planting a kiss on her lips that deepened as she responded in like. His hands roaming through her hair, hers hand around his neck, her leg swinging over the armrest of the chair as if she always known how to move around the chair….

It was hard to say, but in the passing moment it felt like a lifetime of memories passing through.

It felt like he was flying….

"Oh, you're busy."

They broke apart to see Kurt smirking at them through the computer screen, Mercedes was lurking behind him with a glass of wine.

"They looked to be both busy, if you don't me saying."

In answer, Tina lithely reached backwards to turn off the console, asked slightly breathily:

"You were saying?"


	6. Five Man Con

[Case 90: Five Man Con]

* * *

><p>Sam didn't drink coffee much, but there was something he hadn't quite resolved yet.<p>

In the weeks that followed him getting his wings clipped as he laid low due to the actions with General Hydra, Sam had quite a bit of free time.

Free time he spent at his civilian job, free time spent visiting his brother and sister, and free time wondering exactly who was the voice in the microphone.

He knew Mirage was a actual person. He knew listening to far too many sibling like squabbles with Miss M where a machine wouldn't respond in such a manner. He knew that from conversation with Kurt that Mirage was an old friend, who may not always has been this detached person in a machine. He also knew that Nightshade who came into suddenly, was more that just celebrated hero from the League. She meant something to everyone in the group, particularly to Mirage, whose brisk orders seemed to bend and fold at her suggestions, and instead of squabbles on the microphone became silence and cordial requests.

But that wasn't the reason why he was that Lima Bean. During the weeks he has passed by he recalled, Kurt's word of advice about finding the real Mirage.

"Look for a nerd with a laptop in a coffee shop, chances are it might be him."

It was long shot, yet he had nothing else better to do.

So Sam bought an overpriced drink and looked for a place to sit as he scanned the crowd.

Look for a guy with a laptop, he mused, but so far he saw quite a few except-

As his eyes passed across the room, a man sitting before a computer met his eyes for a moment before quickly looking away.

Could it be?

He worked his way across the room, and when the man didn't get up to leave, Sam figured he made the correct guess.

"Hi." Sam said sitting down at the table. The man looked up but didn't say anything, "nice to finally meet you."

"Do I know you?"

"Yeah we talked before." Sam's words trailed off as the man stared as if he had no idea who he was. "I mean we have a friend of a friend-"

"You never returned your library book."

Sam turned eagerly to the voice behind him, to see a young man unpacking his laptop, from the bag hanging off the handles of his wheel chair.

"You're a librarian," Sam said as he sat down at the table.

"Among other things. Did come to meet someone?"

"To look for actually, I should be going-"

"Maybe I can help you find your friend," the man said holding out a hand, "My name's Artie."

Sam shook his head hesitantly, "That sounds familiar."

"You may have heard of my father, he used to be the commissioner at the LPD. Everyone always remembers my old man, but I shouldn't be surprised he's was miracle worker in the family."

Sam stared at him, as he reacted at the empathize on the words, "you, you're-"

"Surprise," he said smirking, "It's about time met face to face."

Sam had spent a lot of time wondering what it would be like if he finally met face to face with the guy who looked after his siblings, the guy who gave him something worthwhile to do, the guy who saved his life in more ways than one. He had thought of the words he might say, but as he stared across the table, at the guy wearing brightly color sweater vest with a bat sticker on his laptop, and realized anything he could say was pointless.

"It's nice to finally meet, though a bit anticlimactic," Sam added.

Artie grinned, "One of us saving each other lives out in the field that could fun straight out of the comics or something. I could arrange- I'm joking," he added, "and you can relax, I'm not about to sack you."

Sam lowered his voice, "You have a talent in reading minds?"

Artie shook his head and pointed and Sam's grip on the table.

"It was for show, really, but things have gone quiet, and other things have change. And if you haven't gone looking for me, I would have done the same."

"Where am I headed?"

"Nowhere," Artie corrected with a smirk, "yet. Over here!"

Sam turned as Artie waved across the crowded coffee shop, where a group was headed in the direction. Sam first saw Kurt, who was flanked by pair of women, the one to his left holding out her hand to receive money.

The other carrying two drinks in her hand, beamed at Artie as a strand of blue hair fell across her eyes.

The woman with the coffee handed one to Artie, before pulling her chair close to him to make room for her friends.

"You're not going to get the other five bucks from me," Kurt said as they sat down.

"We'll see won't we," she retorted, her voice sounding familiar.

Kurt looked away, and gave Sam a slight wave as he picked up his own coffee.

"Who are you friends?" Sam asked.

"They're not my friends," Kurt interjected before Artie could reply. The response merited laughter from the other two, something that did little to improve Kurt's move. "I don't know these idiots." He stood up and reached in his pocket and threw money in the air before he stormed off.

"Don't go," the woman with blue hair said, "we promise we won't laugh." She gently nudged Artie in the ribs. "Won't we?'

"Scout's honor," Artie chipped up.

"I can't make that promise," the other friend said, "He just can't handle being wrong can he?"

"Am I missing something?" Sam asked.

"They made a bet you couldn't tell who they were, and I'm owe them all fifteen bucks and a free meal."

"Why would you make a bet on that?"

"Because I'm an idiot." Kurt sat back down. "Sam meet the girls, you know them already."

"I do?" He glanced at them closely as he suddenly made the connection, "I do, don't I?"

"Mercedes," Miss M said, her smile reminding of the flight they had to Serbia where they fought over the radio.

"I'm Tina," Nightshade said, her smile was brighter and more genuine than the last time she saved his life. "It's nice for all us to be together at once."

"You were right," Sam said turning to Kurt. "I should have gone to Lima Beans."

"I'm always right."

"If you were," Artie remarked dryly, "you would have vetoed the name."

"Are you still upset about that," Mercedes asked, "Tina can you get your man, he's supposed to be cool with it."

"With what?" Sam asked.

"Our name," Mercedes said proudly, "I got it painted on the jet, Beta Strikes."

"You really did do it!" Kurt sputtered, "you let this happened?"

"We needed a name." Mercedes seemed impervious into Kurt's mild fit. "And lower your voice, I can hear you well enough."

"I think it's nice," Tina said firmly.

Kurt turned to Artie who opened up his laptop, "I give up."

"You can't give up," Kurt hissed slamming his hand on the table, "where's your dignity!"

"Well, you come up with a better name."

When Sam had taken the call from a faceless stranger he didn't imagine he find himself here, arguing about team names with a group of people that while he was still an outsider with, he someday hope could call his best of friends.

"It's already painted so just cool it-"

A beep punctuated the conversation as all heads turned towards Artie's laptop.

"What is it?"

"Who did it?"

"Where are we headed?"

Artie shrugged, "That was nothing, just to quiet everyone but this," he turned the laptop that showed only one word on dark screen: Dalton.

Kurt frowned as he pulled the screen back.

"Wait," Sam asked, "what does this mean?"

"You'll find out soon enough," Tina murmured,

"It's a five man con, which means…"


End file.
